Cataclysmic Delirium
by Viridian Valentine
Summary: "You're telling me you don't want to carve a beautiful painting into his flesh with a razor blade?" An AkuRoku about distortions, mental struggles, and a place where you just can't escape. the only way to cope is with...
1. Prologue: Paranoia

To whoever is reading this, I seriously thank you. This time, I wanted to get into something deep and twisted, but also with that sappy AkuRoku romance everyone adores even if they wont admit it. I don't own anything related to Kingdom Hearts, it all goes to the brilliant mind of Tetsuya Nomura. Warning: if you can't mentally handle gore/offensive language/touchy subjects, stray away. With that being said, enjoy. D:

* * *

_Don't fret precious I'm here_  
_Step away from the window_  
_Go back to sleep_  
_Safe from pain  
And truth_  
_And choice  
And other poison devils_

* * *

**Paranoia.**

I can't escape the feeling I'm being watched.

Everywhere I go, I sense a presence. Always near, but far enough to torment me into a confusion. I blink, and blink, and blink. Maybe then it will stray away. But it never does. I'm forever trapped inside a box of paranoia.

Sometimes, the presence takes for. A bloody mass of a mangled body. A swirling entity of flashing hues that takes the form of some sort of demon. It will mold into anything, in any quantity. A pack of lies.

Then the voices start. Hostile, fearful, soothing.

"_They're not really your friends; you're just kept around as a source of cheap entertainment. That pen you always doodle with…it's more of a friend to you than they have ever been. Go ahead, SHOVE IT THROUGH THEIR FUCKING SKULLS! What are you hesitating for, JUST DO IT!"_

"_It's alright sweetie, I'll take good care of you. We all will."_

For awhile, I start to believe the voices have departed. Then when things seem to be going as perfect as I can manage, I'm brought back down into my own reality as they surface yet again. I don't want to follow what they demand of me. But they snarl so viciously at me, and I begin to wince as they raise their tone. I tell my friends it was just a chill when I twitch like that. But I know the truth.

Friends, family, teachers. They all say I'm a mess. My thoughts are fragmented, constantly shifting direction, making it difficult to focus and retain anything significant. Sometimes my speech is incoherent, with slurs and breaks in the words I say. Everything is a disorganized mess, with no hope of repair.

I get shunned for my emotions. Tragedy in life makes me grin, despite the anguish I feel. It upsets me to react this way, but controlling this impulse is sadly almost impossible. When people are laughing or smiling, and the atmosphere is jovial, I shut myself out from the world I love, and it morphs into meaningless violence.

They say something is wrong with me.

These people like for me to come into their rooms and speak to them, like I'm some form of mockery to cover up their own pathetic lives. They want me to expose my thoughts and emotions to break me down even further. I despise them with every bone in my body.

"Tell me what's wrong." They say.

"I understand." They say.

They don't really understand. Hell, I can't even fathom the complexities of irregularity.

They won't "cure" me. They can't. So what's the alternative? I get shocked in a chair. Electrical pulses surge through my body in an effort to reconfigure my brain. I'm just like a child's plaything. What happens to me doesn't really hurt. Physically. I know they're all laughing inside of their minds.

I'm on so many types of pills.

* * *

_See they don't give a fuck about you_  
_Like I do_


	2. Chapter one: Admission

I'm sorry for the delay. There's a shit ton of things to do in preparation of leaving high school for good about a month from now. Yeah, and I finally decided on a new title for the story. The chapters will roughly be at least 2,000 words long, just for a little hindsight.

Also, all the updates and whatnot will be on my tumblr. Follow me pwease? I love conversing with my fans.

wordsintoflame. tumblr .com

* * *

**Admission.**

"New patient arriving today. Seventeen."

"Classification?"

"Psychosis. Disorganized Schizophrenia. Mild case."

"Poor kid. Alright, i'll take the files."

He couldn't see a damn thing besides dull, eggshell white walls and a flickering light bulb dangling from the ceiling by a rusted chain.

How long had he been asleep?

Aside from his body in a half fetal position on a cold and dirty tiled floor, there was nothing in the small room he was occupying. A loud, resounding knock came from the gray metal door to his top right, and it opened shortly after.

"Roxas Hikari? Good, you're awake. Come with me please."

Now he remembered where he was. They had stolen him.

The newcomer's demeanor appeared callous and emotionless. Her hair was a thin wavy strawberry blonde, and the sparkling hazel eyes hinted she was on the end of her youth, most likely around her late twenties. The last time Roxas was conscious, she had injected something into his neck with a thin needle while he was being forcefully held down for plunging a rusty nail into her right calf. He secured the nail in his pocket at all times, for any circumstances that may arise should he feel threatened.

If his parents hadn't disposed of him, he would have had a choice of actions.

"Come on, let's _go_. We're on a tight schedule today."

Reluctantly, Roxas got to his feet and stepped out of his confinement. There were two fairly built men accompanying them on the long walk down the poorly lit hallway as a just in case should he try anything violent once more. He spotted a small taser on one of their belts, just short of his grasp if he reached for it.

_What the fuck am I here for?_

He was then taken into another room on the opposite side of the hallway and left without any advice or whatnot, this time with a mass of obscure medical equipment scattered across marble countertops, and a near-flawless complexioned redhead with stupidly long hair that was located sitting in a corner with his knees bent up and locked together. Something about Roxas must have been intriguing, because his sole accompaniment in the frigid room looked straight at him with a wicked expression as their gazes locked on each other. The stranger flashed a completely fabricated smile like a car salesman attempting to slide a purchase through an unaware consumer while scanning Roxas up and down in a way that was either suggestive or menacing.

"Well. You must be new here."

The jargon that flowed out of his lips had the equivalent of Novocaine on Roxas' brain. His voice was so velvety, so mysterious, so..inviting. But something wasn't right, something had to be churning in his mind. A motive for his twisted friendliness. Emerald irises glistened as he spoke, and two reverse teardrops were tattooed right below his eyes.

Repercussions, that's what they were to Roxas. A shrouded and falsified sense of comfort, created by an egotistical maniac bent on fervent passion and heartbreak. From the rising of the very entities that haunted his thoughts, something was about to go down.

"You think?" Roxas retorted. "From the look of _your_ratchet ass, seems like you've been holed up in this shitpile because nobody cares to keep you."

Speaking without thinking had always been one of his biggest faults, and this situation was a pure example of how unsympathetic one teen could be.

"Easy there buttercup. You don't have to be so harsh now..."

He sprang to his feet and propped his twiglike figure up against the wall with one leg bent against it. From just a simple observation alone, he stood somewhere at about six feet or even a little more, and appeared extremely unkempt at the moment. There were various lacerations along loose fitting blue jeans and a shirt that seemed to be stained with blood.

"...because you're not looking too pretty yourself."

Upon hearing the remark, Roxas looked down at his own tattered body and realized the statement to be true; he looked anything but pretty right now. There was dirt caked on his brand new checkered Vans, a ripped white tanktop, and checkered shorts destroyed by grass stains. What had to be worse was the fact all his kandi cuffs were confiscated from his arms, exposing a mass of scars along them from hours upon hours of slicing flesh open with a dulled razorblade.

His hair was completely matted down. It was never down.

"I know why you're here Roxas. What you've done."

_"He's out to get you Roxas. Trust us."_  
"The _fuck are you toying with me for_? Just what do you expect from me?" A snarl came out while he advanced closer with small steps, not losing sight of who was in front.

"You're a _messy _little nutcase. There's this insane belief in your noggin that little people command your every action with smooth words and condescending tones. Your violent outbursts left you shunned and feared by most of your community, ultimately leaving your overly stressed parents to drop you off where you won't become a problem to anyone, anymore."

The words dropped like bombs on Roxas' conscience, building up a vial of anger ready to teeter on the edge of morality and shatter. The fact he spewed these words at Roxas so casually and straight faced ticked every nerve until popping off at the mouth became a necessity. Of course the accusation was damn near on the dot, but he wouldn't dare swallow pride to admit such a thing. However, the question of how someone he never encountered before a moment in his pathetic life knew about said life.

"Don't go around acting like you know a thing about what goes on with me."

"It's obvious I know more than you."

The space between them grew shorter.

"My parents are just going on vacation, dumbfuck." Was that really the best retort he could fathom at the moment?

"No Roxybear, they stranded your ass to finally have the marriage they dreamed about until you came around and destroyed their future."

Roxybear was the name given by his mother. That defilement.

At that point, the vial shattered and Roxas lunged at the stranger with a scalpel he swiped up from a nearby counter just seconds before casting his feet off the ground. The sharp edge of the stainless steel surgical tool came inches away from both of their necks after a momentary struggle when in a flash Roxas was flipped from his position and slammed into the corner with no way to break free. He remained there panting, with a unmoving gaze on those emerald eyes.

"The...hell..."

"Smooth move. Now look where it's got you."

"You're such a brazen asshole."

"I never did tell you why I was in here, did I?"

Body pressed against body as the collar of Roxas' shirt was grabbed onto with slender fingers and soft lips moved to his ear to cease all movement by a single breath.

"Pyromania. Two gorgeous fields, gone at a snap of the fingers. Numerous attempted murders. _Successful rape_."

Roxas just about looked like he had been anally probed with a whisk of cake batter as the door containing himself and the readhead flung open and the same woman from before burst in. His shirt was released, and a sense of relief flowed out.

"Axel Cisero! What on earth do you think you're doing?"

Why did that name sound so familiar?"

In as quick as he shifted Roxas to pure fear by aggressive movements and venom filled morphemes, Axel swiftly twirled around and plastered on that distinctive allure laced in a smile.

"Oh, nothing really. Roxas had a bit of a fright, so I just calmed him down. Is that really something to be worried about?"

Both the woman gave a roll of the eyes to call bullshit, but despite the offsetting appearance, Axel really did possess the cunning of a snake and the grace of a mass serial killer.

"Sure, whatever you say. Both of you come with me. Axel, you failed."

"Aw c'mon, you're fucking kidding me! I didn't take any drugs!"

He looked absolutely seething while they walked yet again into another room, and Roxas was beginning to feel as if he were a cheap yo-yo. This new location was fully guarded along with a full body mirror and adequate lighting for once. From the looks of it, Axel was already fully aware of the procedure to take place when he stuck out his right arm to the woman. Looking over at the strange action quizzically, Roxas followed suit. She laid a flat strip of aluminum and slammed it against their scar laced arms to produce a houl inducing pain and left their flesh with scarlet tinted blotches. Roxas was brought in front of the sparkling mirror by that strange woman who had the look of achievement upon that makeup caked facade of hers.

"Look at yourself, Roxas. Look at the calamity you've become. Are you really happy with yourself and the outcomes?"

_Bitch, what do you think?_

"I dunno, is anyone really happy?"

"Don't get philosophical with me, Hikari. I'm just glad we put your outbursts at bay for now."

She clasped onto his collarbone with bitter words and leaned closer.

"You miss your parents? I can bet that you do."

Axel shook his head in pure disappointment.

"They fucked me over. But yeah, I guess I do miss them a little."

"Well don't. You're not wanted anymore."

Another needle was plunged into his neck before he had any chance to object, any moment to react and prevent himself from being some medical toy to cavort with. His body fell limp and dropped to the floor.

_"We warned you Roxas... We told you to believe us.  
Now you're vulnerable to their manipulation.  
Nothing but a helpless puppet."_

"But don't worry. We have a solution."

A full twenty-four hours had passed when Roxas sat up from his forced slumber.

_I have got to stop doing this. _

All of the voluntary muscles felt ached and tense, and it was as if there were immense weights pressing against his body to prevent any type of escape. Upon opening his eyes after a momentary struggle, the first thing noticed was Axel seated in a chair suited for a kindergartener. In the same room. Alone. He noticed his accompaniment had been woken and slid his chair casually so that it would meet the small bed Roxas was occupying.

"Oho, you're awake. Took you long enough."

The cockiness from this guy never ceased. Roxas ruffled his hair while giving a look of contempt, just wondering where he could possibly be located this time around.

"Yeah, whatever. Just tell me where I am."  
A laugh escaped Axel's lips. A dark, demented laugh. The question Roxas asked apparently was never going to be answered by the look on Axel's face.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, blondielocks. Nobody knows where we are. But until a staff member walks all up in here, I suppose i'll humor you."

Darting his eyes around the room, he stopped hearing Axel's words, realizing that the tone was much softer, as if he had been injected with some substance as well. But did Roxas actually know better? Of course not, because he had just met the guy and hell, he didn't even know if this scenario was all a twisted delusion he usually had with the ending of him waking up in the real world with another hatred of the sentience he was in a way forced to carry out. Either way, he urged the story to be unraveled by a simple nod.

"Alright, let's get this crfackin. The place you woke up in is a holding edifice known as Castle Oblivion. New patients are automatically brought there to undergo the procedural paperwork by parents or guardians. At the moment you are most unaware, they inject you with a dose of I think, fentanyl to knock you out in about thirty seconds. Ya get put in a room like that one you woke up in, and while you're asleep they look over the basics of your appearance and a summary by your parents. Following me so far?"

And surprisingly, he was able to keep up with the rambling. Maybe it was Axel's use of hand motions strewn about in a inconsistent way that somehow matched up perfectly with the words spewing out of his mouth.

"Of course."

"Good. See when that lady slapped our arms, it was to get the blood flowing from the drugs they injected. I dunno why though. And well, you know from there. Where you're at right now, it's known as The World That Never Was. When I said I couldn't say where we were, I meant it. After we're handed over to this place, our records of existence are pretty much wiped out to everyone on the outside world. No one knows where this place is located at, either inside or out. That's pretty much the story."

"But...how do you know all of this?"

Roxas cocked his head when a bloodcurdling scream was emitted from what seemed to be a few rooms away.


	3. Chapter Two: Exams

Shit, I'm sorry everyone. I went through a horrible breakup, and graduated at around the same time. My life has been pretty hectic lately. Apologies if the quality isn't up to par. thanks for bearing with me though. o:

Since I forgot my separate Tumblr account, you can find updates and whatnot on .com and my DeviantArt, which is Sapphrix-XV. Oh yeah, and I love penguins.

* * *

**Exams.**

"Did you hear that?"

"Why wouldn't I pay attention to a shriek like that? Oh yeah, because it happens all the damn time."

"Jeez Axel, you didn't have to elaborate yourself. A simple yes or no would have sufficed."

The screams coming from a few rooms to the right increased in volume and shaped into something a bit more feminine. Whoever it was, they were putting up quite a struggle from the bangs and crashes being emitted from the same area.

"Shh, listen Roxas. Pay attention."

"No! This is a fucking outrage! The nerve you have to just confiscate what is rightfully mine!"

"Miss Valencia, please calm yourself! Attempting to construct your own needles for utterly destructive purposes is completely out of line and will not be tolerated. Now comply to what is being demanded of you or suffer the consequences."

Roxas slightly backed up on the stiff mattress that had the texture of grimy foam and peered down.

"It's like these walls are paper thin."

Axel chuckled in response. "They only raise their voices to exploit us and try to make examples for future incidents."

The door keeping the two trapped in the barely formidable room was opened, and a young woman stood in the doorway with a scowl on her face. Behind her the female fueling fore to her own scene was being dragged away like a helpless ragdoll. Pale blonde locks of hair felw in all sorts of variou directions as she clawed at the gaudy, cracked, tiled ground.

The woman remaining in the doorway signaled Roxas over with a curling index finger. he stared back as blankly as the shabby homework he turned at school. She wasn't too pleased at the lack of compliance, and began irritably tapping one of her ebony boots on the floor. Axel nudged Roxas to step forward and leave with someone else new to do who knew what. as he nodded and stepped to his unknown fate, a sharp pain shot across his temple.

"Now is your chance Roxas...  
You can escape from here...  
Get rid of her.  
She is an obstacle!"

Adrenaline began to pump through warm blooded veins as Roxas charged toward the woman and performed a side kick at the door. The force applied made it slam forward and right into the woman, breaking her fragile nose and causing blood to instantly gush she screamed in shock and horror. He didn't care at all what he just caused. More of the staff arrived and rushed her to the instacare wing as Roxas was attempting to flee the place he knew nothing about. Not familiar with the floor plan and scheme of the building, he quickly found his way to a dead end with nowhere to go except a locked pair of doors that posed a sign above in a language he couldn't possibly decipher.

A few of the staff members had been hot on his trail, waiting for just the right moment to swoop in and snatch up their rogue prize. They now had him cornered, unable to scurry away as if he were a frightened rat. And he sure portrayed the part with fierceness in his eyes and a twisted grin upon his angsty facade.

"Come now, Roxas, we mean you no harm." One of the group, a fairly built male, stepped forward to take the initiative.

"Bullshit!" Roxas spat back in a rage, unable to control any actions made from this point on. His eyes shifted from side to side in a menacing glare towards those who were here to take control of him. Take over his free will. Such copious amounts of compliance ex[ected that it angered him even more so.

"Shut your mouth, kid." the man's tone immediately became just as hostile as the one possessed by Roxas. "I don't have the time to play this game of pointless banter. Now come with us, or the outcome of your refusal will be none too pleasant." His foot tapped the tile impatiently as a wave of violent motives swept across the group's minds.

Roxas gave a reply with the single gesture of raising his middle finger to them in defiance. A smug little smirk arose when the reaction of disgust reached their faces. But what was to happen now? This was a place to hold him trapped. render him helpless in terms of escape. He knew they wouldn't leave him be. But the plan formulating in his noggin was deemed far too slow when a liquid dipped dart slammed into his neck. Two members gave a quick high five for an accurate shot. Roxas managed a glare laced with hatred as his vision grew hazy and he dropped to his knees.

"Fucking...shit..."

The man who had stepped forward in the beginning of this escapade now picked up Roxas's unconscious frame and hoisted it over his shoulders. At least the kid had provided some form of entertainment. But then again, he was warned. After Roxas woke, he was going to regret not coming back by choice.

The next week was spent by undergoing a series of grueling tests in which Roxas was worked raw. He was provided with just enough nutrition to prevent the risk of passing out, but he knew they could give a shit less what became of him. He was just another plaything, a marionette on the looming stage of cheap mockery, and when the performance was over he would be shut away and forgotten until his next show. His strings would soon be cut loose in a catastrophic denouement.

Then the stage would now be set for a beautiful disaster.

Most days Roxas was too groggy to even concentrate on the mental and physical tasks thrown at him in an intentionally bitter manner. His body was under the influence of 1.5mg of Serenace administered to him three times a day. Popping pills was usually a casual hobby, but these caused him to projectile vomit and make his vision extremely foggy. Temporary side effects, they said. Could potentially become worse, they told him. I'll fucking make you overdose, he swore in his mind. With pouring inner bile from his mouth onto the walls of a bathroom that had the strong smell of marijuana and fornication, and being run down to the bone in punishment of that time he attempted to escape on his first day, the aura surrounding his whole entity was pulsing with angst, debilitation, and an increasing craving for nicotine.

It wasn't like there was anyone available to converse with either, seeing as how the physical strenuations required him to be in a practically soundproof room. On the outside world, the people he associated with could barely be known as friends, more like acquaintances he hooked up with when in need of a social encounter or a quick fix of booze. It was a surge of unwanted acceptance. But still here he was, aching to get in a heated verbal retaliation with someone else just to analyze his own mind and achieve contemptible amusement.

Roxas finally obtained his moment nine days after the attempted escape when he was shoved into a bleakly lit room. Off to the corner of his sights, he spotted a tuft of crimson hair.

"Hey hey, Blondielocks. You just gonna stand there?" Sarcasm danced around the tone.

So it was Axel. Good. Although there wasn't much to work with from just two encounters, Roxas felt a strange comfort surrounding him when he was around Axel. The guy definitely looked like he knew his way around the place, and he would be the perfect utility for an escape. Of course, that was merely a thought, and not a motive. There was something about Axel that struck Roxas as so...mysterious. Axel was that forgotten song, cherished but the name and lyrics lost in the crevices of one's mind.

"And be strained even more? Nah, I'll fuckin pass, thank you... Is there even a bed in here?"

"Get yer ass over here and see."

That response was so cool in inflection, so inviting. Roxas found himself warming at the sound of his voice. He wasn't sure if it was from not being in any decent contact other than with the ones directing his labors, or if it was something else pulling on his temperature. Nevertheless, he strode over to the sound of the voice hitting his ears like the softest velvet. From the strained looks of it, there was only one mattress in the damn place. He let out a sigh and turned to the glowing emerald eyes.

"So...where am I anyways?"

Axel let out a chuckle and sighed back in amusement.

"Our room. Apparently the ringleaders think i'm the perfect act to entice you with good behavior. Little do they know that i'm the lion who takes the show by the mane."

"That metaphor at the end made me want to gag."

"Second that motion. Anyways, this really is the only bed. For now, until tomorrow. I'll relinquish it, I guess. Unless... you wanna snuggle buggle uggles?"  
Axel cooed at the blonde, mockingly referencing the baby face he possessed. Roxas replied with rubbing the back of his head in indecisiveness.

"Er...I really don't want to steal your shit seeing as how i'm the one barging up in your personal space..and you do have a queen...which is beyond me...i guess we can crash on the same mattress for tonight."

Even though Roxas couldn't make out his hand in front of his face, he knew somehow that Axel was grinning. The redhead claimed the spot closest to the wall, and in the state of paranoia and cautiousness to remind him that he was in the same room as a rapist, he took the side easiest to roll off and land face flat onto the floor.

For a few minutes, the silence was creeping up one the duo, right when Roxas was waiting for a snore to erupt, Axel poked him on the side.

"Hey Hikari, where'd you come from anyways? Or am I proddin into your life too soon?"

The question struck Roxas with a verbal icicle through his eyes. Yawning, he shrugged.

"I grew up in the big city, nothing much about me. My parents really hated me because I wasn't of the vagina gender. they would pull the 'we wish we had a daughter instead" card whenever I would screw up. They kept a lot of secrets from me. Even on our heritage, but it's whatever."

"Uhh, that's odd. But apparently you must have made an impression to be locked away in an asylum. You ever do drugs? They're some crazy things, man."

Axel began to chew on his nails, a victim of a dirty habit to break free of.

"Sure as hell have. I'd think someone like you would have easily sniffed that out. There was a summer group I met in these apartments. We would go out to the pool and get wasted out of our minds during a tom of the nights, with any alcohol we had obtained recently. Sometimes there would be some reefer to roll in a blunt, and it seemed like there was an endless supply of cigarettes. Every so often, we would pop pills and take trips to the 7-Eleven that was right down the street. I remember trying shrooms a couple of times too. I just felt relaxed, yknow? It wasn't like I ever went home inebriated. Those were my people, and they accepted me sober or not. that was probably the only time I sacrificed my energy to actually spend time with someone other than my hand."

There was a silence momentarily, and Roxas felt as if he had blabbed yet again and ruined a potential friendship yet again. Axel laughed and nodded.

"I know what it's like. I had a gang too. We did shit like that. Ride around the town with 40s in our hands, chilling in the back of the truck, and having hour long conversations about videogames, our childhoods, and what we would do in detail if the zombie apocalypse ever struck earth. Good times, with the addition of cocaine. Man, that was a horrible addiction to break, even if it was just for two months. It fucks you up, not to mention how badly a pierced septum adds to the pain in your nose from snorting."

"Looks like we both have a picnic of problems." Hearing that Axel used to snort coke didn't surprise him on one bit, oddly enough. There just had to be something strong that coursed through his veins, something to egg on that wild passion that Roxas sensed.

"No kiddin. Hey, it's pretty late. We should attempt to travel to snooze land. Who knows what could go down tomorrow."

Roxas turned on his side, a position he maintained while in slumber almost every time.

"Got that right. Oh yeah...why the hell isn't there a lightbulb in here?"

Axel leaned in and whispered in the other's gauged ear with the most serious tone Roxas had heard all night.

"That lightbulb was sexy."

Roxas felt his eyes widen.

"What."

* * *

_I can't decide_  
_ Whether you should live or die_  
_ Oh, you'll probably go to heaven_  
_ Please don't hang your head and cry_  
_ No wonder why_  
_ My heart feels dead inside_  
_ It's cold and hard and petrified_  
_ Lock the doors and close the blinds_  
_ We're going for a ride_


	4. Chapter Three: Chimera

Wow everyone, I'm sorry. I haven't updated this in three months, I think. I kind of lost my muse. But now I'm back, and I plan to get this thing goin yet again. You know when people say that your life can be the biggest inspiration for stories? Well, It's true.

I know this update is short and vague, but that's the point.

* * *

_Take away the sensation inside_  
_ Bitter sweet migraine in my head_  
_ Its like a throbbing tooth ache of the mind_  
_ I can't take this feeling anymore_

* * *

Flashing, strobing, penetrating lights. Why were they circling around him in this obscure manner? Hell if the blonde knew, his eyes were pasted together with what he swore was the result of an Axel prank. He had only known the guy for considerably two days; enough to know that someone of his character would be one for a laugh regardless. The thin fleshy lids spread apart with no effort at all despite the heavy sensation placed upon them. The lights struck through his optics, sending a jolt through his muscles and a spasm provoked bony fingers to grasp onto...metal. there was no way getting around that the mattress Roxas had fallen asleep on was no longer beneath him. He didn't have the patience for this bullshit.

The room seemed normal enough, what he knew of it. Axel was nowhere to be seen, or felt since that eyebrow raising joke he told about raping the lightbulb. There was one in the corner of the room, and its sudden appearance produced a confused guttural growl in return.

"Ey, firecrotch. You still creeping up in here?"

Silence. Not even a shuffle, no hint of movement. If this was the rest of the joke it wasn't funny anymore. Roxas was sober, unoccupied, and tired. This wasn't the time, was far from the place to go through this.

"Axel...Fine, fuck it. I'll find you and play your damn game."

The room was small enough. This would have been simple. If he hadn't taken that hop off the bed only to discover that a floor no longer existed. This had to be a dream. Either that or he was injected with some hallucinogen yet again. With arms shaking from grasping onto the bed's corner with sweating palms, a failed effort to raise his weakened body sent him cascading into a black pit for what seemed to go on and on before slamming face first into a very familiar and slightly foul smelling liquid. Upon expelling what has found its way into his mouth, Roxas gave a shriek realizing he was swimming around in blood. This place was pitch black.

He sputtered more out and swam around in the sea of hemoglobin, occasionally grasping an organ by mistake and tossing it off to the side. They never made a sound of dropping anywhere. After what seemed like there was no chance of escape left, Roxas came upon a rather miniscule vent opening that was barely enough for him to crawl through. But inside things were dry, and that was good enough for him.

Crawling through darkened tubes into a location unknown.

Suddenly, a tunnel of light.

Tearing open the meshy vent opening, he peered in to find Axel casually perched on a ledge, waiting for something...or someone by the sight of it. He stared straight at the wall, giving out a chuckle as he spoke.

"Well then. Took you long enough."

Long enough?

He was in charge of presenting this sick joke?

The rage built up, and he didn't care what happened next.

Flashing a snarl at the redhead, Roxas hopped out of the ventilation system and charged at the other's lanky frame with no notion of stopping. Right before connecting balled fist to pale cheeks, Axel flashed a small pocket knife and struck it right through Roxas's chest.

The puppet finally had his strings cut.

The pain stung as it mixed with his own fluid flowing through his shirt. The blonde dropped to his knees, choking on what seeped from his mouth. Misty cerulean optics peered upwards in a questioning form, and Axel merely shook his head with a grin.

"Now Roxas...Now, now you're vulnerable enough."

"Pf...w-what?!"

No worded response, but after realizing that he really was vulnerable, Roxas retaliated with nothing but shocked cries as Axel reached for the blonde's bloodied shorts and began to tug at them, quickly removing the clothing in a matter of seconds.

So he really wasn't lying about the charges. What he had done to others wasn't a bluff. And there he was, lying down with no strength to fight back.

Eventually, Roxas laid on the floor entirely naked, knife still deep in his chest. He gasped, and gasped, and gasped. But his lungs burned like acid.

Was this really how things were going to end for him? No more family, no friends, nothing to call his own except for a scarred and violated body? This was how his life slipped away.

His eyelids fluttered as his chest gave a final heave along with a scream.

And then Roxas woke up.

* * *

_Drain the pressure from the swelling,_  
_ This sensations overwhelming,_  
_ Give me a long kiss goodnight_  
_ and everything will be alright_  
_ Tell me that I won't feel a thing_  
_ So give me Novacaine_


	5. Chapter Four: Penumbra

_I'm too tired to be bored_  
_I'm too bored to be tired_  
_And, the silence is so deafening _

_it's like picking at a sore_

* * *

After a few days, Roxas had begun to to recover from his overdose that sent him into a frenzy of hallucinations. A member of the staff had given him a notebook shortly after, noting that his parents had said he loved to write. It was the only thing Roxas's parents saw him love. Each day he was given a subject to write on, and each day Axel would pester the blonde wile trying to complete the task he dreaded and yet looked forward to at the same time.

Axel prodded Roxas with his pointer finger, poking at the back of his head.  
"Hey Roxylocks, what's this little snippety about?" A snarky laugh escaped those nearly perfect lips, and Roxas scowled back with a middle finger.

"Some bull about my room. I'm supposed to tell what it means to me."

But by then he had just finished up, and to much surprise, Roxas handed Axel the book to read through the day's entry.

_'You have got to be fucking kidding me. It was already noon by the time I pried my crusted eyes open to the dim light of the world, which meant that yet again, I had fallen prey to my narcolepsy and would then be called lazy for the rest of the entire day. It was a vicious circle really; no matter how hard I worked or tried my best, if there was one mistake I was branded a failure. But then of course there would be that much more of a reason to prove to everyone that were wrong about me, dead wrong. _

_If you took a quick look at my room you would probably think "eh, ordinary teenager shit." That's sometimes what goes through my head when I stand up finally and peer around. But delve deeper into the mass, and those true colors that are talked about, they shine nice and bright. Various trinkets are scattered throughout- though each in its own place, never making a mess- and they show the things that catch my interest the most. A bookshelf: one of the most stereotypical items, showing the most diverse selection. Those fantasy stories really get me going, they're places where I can just let my mind wander and live through another being, feel what they feel, see what they see...oh you get the idea._

_ And the comics...oh the comics you can find. my heroes lie within them. Not just because they're literally branded heroes, but because those individuals know what it's like to sacrifice. They get out there and show their community -and everyone else that lies on the so called bad side- that they are there to fight for us. They go through normal struggles just like we do, and I can't even tell you just how many life lessons I've learned from that. But I'm starting to ramble. Damn thoughts taking over me. _

_My music is the real deal breaker from reality. It's the only, only thing that can calm me down even in the worst of situations. But i just have to drown out the outside world in order for that to happen. I can escape without even going anywhere, and once I learn a song's meaning I never let that fact go. When everything just feels as if it's crumbling down before me and there's no hope, no support...the music is there for me, letting me know that things really will be alright. Time just has to take its course. _

_And it does every single day, like a monotonous routine. Get up, stretch, get dressed, brush teeth, and there you go. There is never time for eating when you don't want to eat. It feels like a trap, like you're eating it all and people are watching as you waste it. So why even bother eating more than is needed to survive through the day? the bed gets made, but everyone is already up so efforts go unnoticed. There we go again, with the judgement of me being lazy. At first things seem like a joke. Ha, yeah I'm lazy sometimes. But every single day? No, keep your mouth shut and don't jump to conclusions. I cant do what others can. I'm not you. I am me, and no one else, but no one seems to grasp that fact, really give it a squeeze and let the information seep out. _

_It gets utterly sickening, the way that I'm not even given a chance to succeed. There is no faith in me, and for someone with an extremely low level of self confidence, I find myself spiraling down, just so far down that there is no escape from the depression. Everything just seems so lackluster now. Why even make an effort when things are just going to turn out the same no matter what method you use? That, that's insanity. Not in its rawest form, but in a form where it tugs at your very heartstrings daunting and watching every move as if to steer you in the wrong direction. There has to be a way out though, and I believe that's with confidence and support. _

_But you can't have the former without the latter._  
_Cheer up, they say._  
_Stop moping, they say._  
_You're useless. Lazy. You don't care about anyone but yourself._

_if I cared about myself I sure as hell wouldn't be in the mental distortion that I'm in._  
_I would actually give a fuck about making it in life. But no._  
_They don't care about me and I'm on the same page._  
_Why should I care about myself?_'

The room was filled with a thick silence after it had all been read. Off topic really, but there was a deeper meaning there. A knife had stuck into Axel's chest, and Roxas was on the giving end with a darkened pool of misery.

"_I_ give a fuck Roxas. I want you to get out of this shithole and have a happy life." Slender fingers gripped the notebook to the point that it was shaking in Axel's hand.

His remark was met with cold, empty cerulean eyes and a tremble of lips on the verge between anger, hurt, and utter shock. Roxas had never heard, and actually seen before what just took place. The redhead walked closer until the two were about an inch from a nose touch.

"Why do we suffer so much for love? Because we want to - Because we love pain and above everything, those late night calls to hear a sleepy voice on the receiving end. Those moments that you begin to remember the things you did together like pure flash backs. And all the things and moments that went wrong. It's like human torture. I recommend that you leave all of that behind and keep moving forward, because life will bring you more, difficult, life long tests. You have to keep climbing the ladder, and if you fall, never forget to keep moving forward. Because remembering past events, is like taking 20 steps back. Don't yell victory for being able to forget those moments. Yell victory when you are able to forget that persons difficulties, which relatively speaking won't happen . And yell a final victory when life gives you more reasons to laugh and smile at life, for the way it is. And of course, being able to feel."

Without a single chance to react, Axel cupped his free hand upon Roxas's cheek and placed a soft kiss upon his nose.

"And taking chances."

it was then clear that Roxas would never understand Axel Cisero, the way that he could freely still be himself, even though the odds were more than stacked against him. Although that kiss was light, it still sparked a wave of emotions over Roxas, and as soon as the dull passion connected tears began to pour out of him lie a broken faucet.

For an hour the two sat without saying a word. Axel cradled the fragile Roxas while he wept, brushing fingers over his messy spiked hair in attempt to soothe the teen. Finally, the verbal silence was broken.

"Axel...are things going to get better?"  
At that, the door to their holding room was flung open. The same strawberry blond that had the misfortune of being the first to meet Roxas beckoned for him with a finger.

"Hikari, your parents are here for you."

* * *

_I'm too mental to go crazy_  
_I'm too drunk too be pure_  
_And, my mind is playing tricks on me_  
_And, I can't sleep tonight 'cause I'm so tired_


End file.
